Liquor, Cats, and of course, Tapioca Pudding
by ThaniMag
Summary: A Harry-Draco showdown that starts serious and slowly digresses. An extravaganza involving hordes of cats, a bearded Draco, and of course, Tapioca pudding. T for some language.


**A/N: **All right, peeps. It's been over a year since I finished off Seventh Year: The Next Generation, and I haven't written any fanfiction since then, as I've been really busy, and also been applying myself to original work. However, I have decided to throw a one-shot your way. It's not much, but I hope someone, somewhere gets _some_ enjoyment out of it. It's a little jerky, I think, as it starts off serious, but digresses as you go further in as I lose my discipline. The result is something neither fully serious or fully humorous. Little FYI, I couldn't resist throwing in some Tapioca pudding, for any of my previous fans. =P Enjoy.

_**Liquor, Cats, and of course, Tapioca Pudding**_

Harry Potter stood in the pouring rain, the hood of his cloak pulled low so as to protect him from the torrent. He stood across from the Resting Dragon, looking at what he could see of the warmly lit interior through the windows. _What an apt name_, he thought, _given who's inside_. He crossed the small country road and promptly entered the tavern.

A small bell chimed as he swung the door open, and the dozen or so people within turned to see the new arrival—all, except one man who sat at the bar, his perfectly groomed blonde-white hair shining beneath the lights of the tavern.

"'Night, traveler," said a hearty man with a large beard from behind the bar. "Come in and warm yourself. Would you like a hot meal and a drink?"

"No, thank you. I'm here on business," said Harry. The hood of his cloak was still up, preventing anyone from recognizing who he was.

"Business?" asked the bartender, puzzlement in his tone.

"Go on, Potter, pull back your hood, let them look upon you and see who you really are," said the blonde man at the bar, still not turning to look at Harry.

"Very well," said Harry curtly, doing as suggested. There was a surge of quick intakes of breath, as the people in the bar recognized the savior of the wizarding world. "And I would ask that you would all leave, as this could get very messy. That man there is a wanted criminal, and a very notorious one at that."

There was a scuffle of feet and the sound of chairs being overturned as the tavern emptied in a matter of moments. Still the blonde man did not turn from his seat.

Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at the other man's back. He spoke with command and authority: "I arrest you, Draco Malfoy, for the destruction of the Ministry of Magic, for aiding the escape of convicts from Azkaban, for the destruction of the Tower of London, and for the murder of John Filius."

"Isn't there something beautiful about what you just said, Potter?"

"If there was, I didn't particularly notice."

"There was only one name. All that havoc, and only one man actually died. You have to admit, I was rather ingenious with it all. And that fool didn't have to die. If only he had stayed put, and not got stupid ideas of chivalry into his puny little brain."

"But he did die, making you no different than a common murderer," said Harry tightly.

Draco laughed, a chilling sound that made a shiver roll down Harry's spine. The blonde man swiveled on his stool to face Harry, and leaned his elbows back on the bar behind him.

Draco looked as impeccable as always. He wore a slim, black, close-fitting Armani suit. His hair was groomed, and his beard trimmed and shaped. His cool, gray eyes studied Harry.

"A common murderer?" asked Draco in a mocking tone. "Oh, Potter, you know I am anything but that. Those schemes were masterpieces. They were works of art is what they were."

Harry shook his head. "I did not come here to stand and listen to you rave, Malfoy. Fight me, let's get this over with." Harry's wand was still trained on Malfoy's chest, and remained there.

"Fight you, Potter? I do not intend to fight you," said Draco, his voice cold and amused.

"Oh? Then why are you here? You've avoided all my attempts to capture you for months, and could still be doing just that. The only possible reason for you to let me find you is if you desire to fight me."

"Oh, Potter," said Draco, shaking his head in a melancholy fashion. "I really expected better of you. I let you find me, because I _wanted _to be caught. I _want _to be taken in."

Harry lifted his eyebrows. "Why?" he asked.

"Because, Potter, all criminal masterminds desire so badly to be caught. We want to be appreciated for our work, Potter. We want people to exclaim at our brilliance."

"Well, I don't know if that's exactly what you'll be getting, but it's time to go. Get up." Harry made a gesture with his wand, indicating for Draco to rise.

"But, Potter, since you admitted yourself you only found me because I desired you too, and you know I don't want to fight you—can't we at least have a drink together before we go?"

Harry hesitated, but seeing no fault in the idea (and being rather wet and cold from the rain) he agreed. Taking off his cloak and putting it over the back of a nearby chair, he went and took the seat next to Draco at the bar. He placed his wand down in front of him, within easy reach if he should need it.

Draco turned back around, and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of Firewhiskey that were sitting there that Harry had not noticed previously. Filling both glasses to the rim, Draco took one and held it aloft. "To things to come!" he cried.

Harry took his, and looking somewhat bemused, repeated, "To things to come." They clinked glasses, and together, downed the liquor. Harry shuddered as the drink burned down his throat, but enjoyed the pleasing warmth that spread from it through his body.

Draco coughed, and then let out a laugh. "You not have much experience with liquor, Potter?"

"I've had my fair share," said Harry, a little stung. "I just don't make a regular habit of it."

"Well, then better make the most of this." Draco poured each of them another glassful, and again they downed it together.

The next couple of glasses flew by, and Harry was unsure of how much they had each had. The world was starting to blur, and he was pretty sure that wasn't a good sign.

"Potter?"

"Mmm…?" said Harry, turning toward Draco. Draco's eyes were very bright, and a smirk Harry did not like the look of was starting to appear at the corner of his mouth.

"You know what I've wanted to do, for years?"

"What?"

Draco's fist moved so fast, Harry didn't have the chance to move out of the way. It connected in with the center of his face, and sent him sprawling over backward and onto the floor, amidst the sound of breaking bone.

"Whoops. Sorry, Potter. I guess I lied about not wanting to fight you. The thing is, it's just been so long since the good old brawls we always used to have in our schooling days." Draco peered down at Harry, a manic grin lighting up his features.

Harry struggled into a sitting position, blood pouring down from his broken nose. "_Damn_ you, Malfoy!" he exclaimed. "Don't be childish."

"Oh, but it's so much fun."

Harry quickly slipped his foot forward and around the leg of Draco's stool, and with a quick jerk, he flipped it out from under the blonde man. Draco tumbled over backward, and landed on his back with a dull thump.

Draco roared with laughter.

"You're barking mad, aren't you?" demanded Harry, struggling to his feet and reaching for his wand.

"Hell, no," said Draco with a grin, grabbing a nearby chair from where he was on the ground and sending it at Harry with a heave. It struck Harry in the side, sending the breath out of the other wizard and causing him to stagger away from his wand and clutch at a table for support. "What would make you think that?"

"I don't know," wheezed Harry. "Just a general impression, I guess."

Draco got to his feet as smoothly and elegantly as ever, taking care to put a stray lock of his hair back into place.

Harry again made a move toward his wand, but Draco intervened by placing himself between the black-haired wizard and his weapon. Harry resolutely grabbed Draco's left shoulder, and punched the man in the face, sending him crashing over the bar and onto the ground in a heap.

Draco chuckled. "That's more like it, Potter." He slowly started to draw himself to his feet.

Harry reached for his wand, intending to end this nonsense. He was foiled as Draco cast a quick summoning spell, sending the wand into his own delicate hand. Harry stared at Draco, not sure what he would do now that Harry was completely helpless against him.

"Now, now, don't look at me like that," said Draco in an exasperated tone. "I'm not going to fight so unfairly, don't worry. I simply want you to play along with me, Potter. If you do that, I will most gladly return your wand to you."

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, you can't be serious. This isn't the age of the Caveman," said Harry in disbelief.

"That's right; it's the age of the Gentleman. That's why we're going to fight with fists."

"And whatever else comes to hand, I imagine?" muttered Harry.

"Exactly," said Draco with satisfaction, sliding both his and Harry's wands into his suit jacket.

"Suit yourself," said Harry, promptly grabbing the empty Firewhiskey bottle and smashing it on top of Draco's head from across the bar. He then quickly dove over the barrier and tackled Draco back into a shelf holding many more bottles, which fell crashing around them as the two men staggered into it. Harry took the opportunity to land a couple of punches into a dazed Draco's chest and gut.

Draco finally recovered himself and managed to slam his knee into Harry's thigh with enough force to knock Harry away from him. "That's what I like to see, Potter," he yelled with a sparkle in his gray eyes.

Harry struggled to put distance between him and Draco, but the blonde wizard followed, both of them slipping and sliding in the alcohol spilled all around them.

Draco fell and Harry took the opportunity to send a kick at his opponent's face. Draco's hands flew up with lightning-quick reflects, catching Harry's foot and with a jerk sending Harry onto his back.

"Potter, not the face," said Draco in annoyance.

"Wha—?" began Harry in astonishment. "Oh, screw you, Malfoy. What about my broken nose?"

"That was before. Besides, your face isn't as pretty as mine," said Draco with a smirk.

Harry lunged at Draco, but the blonde wizard rolled out of his way and to his feet, leaping over back over the bar. Putting his fingers to his lips, he whistled shrilly.

The sound of hundreds of padded feet running along the floor above could be heard. Then, from the back of the tavern, where a staircase could be seen, a horde of cats appeared, swarming across the floor of the Dragon just as Harry whipped himself over the bar as Draco had done.

Harry's feet landed amidst the turmoil of cats and his legs went out from under him. "Bloody he—" he began before he hit the ground and the cats started swirling over and around him.

Draco, however, did not seem immune to the cats either, for he was now crouched on a table throwing off any cat that happened to leap up.

"Malfoy, what the hell is going on?" yelled Harry from under the cats, struggling back and forth and flinging as many as he could as fast as he could from his body.

"Another one of my brilliant plans, although it seems to have gone awry," said Draco irritably, swatting a large, tawny cat from the table with a flick of his hand.

"Brilliant plans?" exclaimed Harry's voice, with all the disbelief and wonder in the world packed into two words, from beneath what was now a teeming mound of cats.

The cats were now going at Draco in earnest, and his arms were a blur as he spun them back and forth, sending cats flying across the room. However, the sheer number of cats was starting to best him, and a few were now on his shoulders and climbing up his back with their claws—ruining his expensive Armani suit.

In an attempt to escape his aggressors, Draco lunged to his feet and started leaping from table to table—the cats in hot pursuit.

"Damn you, Malfoy! Do something," roared Harry from somewhere on the floor.

"Like what?" demanded Draco, now on the bar and sprinting along it, bowed over so as not to hit the hanging lights.

"I don't know, you have a wand, use your imagination," bellowed Harry.

"_Rictusempra!_" cried Draco, firing the spell over his shoulder. It hit a cat who immediately doubled over, clutching its stomach while making a most peculiar noise that sounded like something somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

"Did you just tickle a cat?" demanded an irritable Harry from somewhere below.

"What? No, of course not, why would you think that?" asked Draco, stopping to stare in fascination at the cat who was now rolling back and forth on the counter. He wasn't the only one, the cats who had been pursuing him had stopped to watch as well, the most perturbed of looks on their features.  
>"Malfoy!"<p>

"Oh, fine, all right. Calm down, Potter. _Incendio!_" A fire roared to life, consuming a nearby table. It was all that was needed. The cats took one look at the flame in their midst, and turned and ran from the tavern.

A rather bedraggled, although relatively unharmed Harry proceeded to pull himself from the floor. "Malfoy—by God—that was the most—"

"Oh, be silent, will you? You know you enjoyed it," said Draco irritably. "Now here, have some Tapioca pudding to cheer you up." Draco leapt down from the counter, a bowl of Tapioca pudding in his hand that had seemingly come from thin air.

"I don't _like_ Tapioca pudding," said Harry, grimacing.

"Oh, that is nonsense. Everyone loves Tapioca pudding. Here, eat," said Draco, shoving the bowl into Harry's stomach.

"Oh, all right," said Harry grudgingly.

The crash of shattering ceramic filled the air as Draco slumped to the floor, unconscious, amidst the broken bowl and a spilled serving of Tapioca pudding.

"You're right, Malfoy," said Harry thoughtfully. "I did enjoy that—though not nearly as much as I enjoyed breaking a bowl of Tapioca pudding over your head.

With that, Harry took his wand from Draco's limp form, and set about looking for someone to clean up the mess. Oh, and to put that fire out.

**A/N: **Well, there you have it. Hopefully you didn't think it was a complete waste of your time. Throw down a review if you have a moment; I would love to hear what you thought of it, what you liked, what you didn't. I won't be writing any longer fics anytime soon, but I hope to throw out some more one-shots or potentially short stories this semester, and would like to know what people would like to read. Hope you enjoyed the Tapioca, for any of you who remembered. =D


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